


loving you's a bloodsport

by kayxpc



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Abuse and juvie mentioned, Character Study, Fluff, Introspection, M/M, Relationship Growth, Relationship Study, abuse mention, one homophobic slur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 22:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12045387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayxpc/pseuds/kayxpc
Summary: if you've never heard the song bloodsport by Raleigh Ritchie I highly rec it. Major andreil feels





	loving you's a bloodsport

**Author's Note:**

> if you've never heard the song bloodsport by Raleigh Ritchie I highly rec it. Major andreil feels

Andrew remembered kissing boys in juvie. To be fair though, Andrew remembered everything. His mind managed to repress some memories of his childhood abuse before that. The Martin's house, David Martin and his taste for little boys especially. Being the ripe age of seven helped him block the rasp of his smoker's voice from Andrew's head.

Besides the point, Andrew had never really been _kissed_ before juvie. His fifteen year old self certainly didn't land a sentence to lock lips with some delinquent unlike himself. Anyway, being a fag in jail was just as dangerous as it always had been, considering the company.

It was not an enjoyable kiss. He had gotten to know the boy out of necessity and when their lips touched his heartbeat shot through the ceiling at the risk of being seen, not to mention the anxiety of another person touching him. He was released two weeks later.

Roland was the only significant partner - if you could call him that - that Andrew had taken — _before_. He learned a lot of things in the back room and shadowed corners of Eden's as puerile as it sounded. Not that he ever spent that much time kissing Roland. He held no affection for the bartender, but Roland clearly reciprocated his attraction and he listened quite well when Andrew told him not to touch.

Andrew was always telling people not to touch him; his mouth so familiar with the words _don't—no—please—_ that they might as well have been the only words he'd ever spoken. Some days the mere thought of someone else looking at his bare skin made him nauseous. He used to believe that would never go away.

After.

After Neil Josten ran into his borrowed racquet in Millport, after he came into Andrew's world and shook it up like a dollar store snow globe. After Nathaniel, after Baltimore.

Andrew still hated him.

Neil fucking Josten.

Neil was the first and only person that mattered to Andrew in that way. Somehow, a man brimming with lies and false identities and too much money snuck behind Andrew's ribcage and nestled a home for himself.

Most days, Andrew couldn't go without kissing him, or touching him or just seeing him and knowing that he was safe. He spent numerous quiet hours, before and after this started, digging through past trauma and smoke stained memories for a reason why.

Neil traded truths with him. Neil risked his life to have a family for mere months, knowing he couldn't keep it but wanting so fiercely that it didn't matter. He protected Andrew, would have given his life for him, would have killed Andrews's abuser given the chance.

Andrew's no meant something with Neil. It had never meant anything to anyone before. Neil could read him so easily, too easily he knew, like a book. He wanted to help, wanted to understand, to stay.

_He wanted to stay._

"Hey babe," Neil said as he locked the dormitory door behind him. He had his new gym bag slung over his shoulder, the one Kevin bought him for his birthday, the junkie pair of them they were.

Andrew lolled his head to the side to watch him toe his sneakers off. "Where is your other half?"

Neil walked into the living room, dumping his bag on the floor like he always did. "I'm looking at him." He grinned, and looked genuinely happy, eyes sparkling blue with it.

It was easy, so excruciatingly easy to be around him. Andrew felt safe. He never felt safe before.

"Yes or no?" He asked, tossing the blanket off his lap and striding over to him. He was damp in the way that said he'd taken a shower at he gym, his hair dark and curling at the ends. Body loose and relaxed, post-workout. He was gorgeous, of course he was. He always had been, Andrew remembered seeing his Millport profile and laughing, high out of his mind, at how blatantly attractive he was even then.

"Yes, Andrew."

Andrew grasped either side of his face and kissed him. He had thought about it since Neil left for his morning run and in his dizzying, lack-of-oxygen haze, he couldn't bear the thought of Neil's hands firmly in his own pockets.

"Touch me," he said, sucking in a breath between kisses. "Waist and up."

Neil hadn't moved until Andrew's mouth was on his again, his hands smoothing over his torso. The plainest touch made Andrew ache. Neil's hands on him never had malicious intent and they never would, Andrew knew that in his bones. The privilege of being touched by him and not touched by him was overwhelming to be aware of. Neil's tongue swiped across his and Andrew's hands sunk into his hair, pulling.

"'drew," Neil moaned, and fuck. They were just kissing, but Andrew felt _everything_. Every touch reminded him how much he trusted Neil and vice versa.

Andrew tilted his jaw with his thumb, licking a path across his neck. His breath was labored far more than he realized, all he intended to do was kiss Neil quickly and then grab a fresh pint of rocky road, but here he was about to plunge headfirst down the rabbit hole. One of Neil's hands was in his hair, the other at his waist, scrabbling for something to hold.

"Yes. Mark me, _mark me_." Neil was panting, because he knew Andrew was hesitating for that exact reason. His consent echoed in Andrew's head as he slowly sucked a dark red bruise to the surface. He stared at it, distantly registering his own voice.

"Pretty," it said. When he looked up again, Neil was watching him intently, waiting for him to take the lead. His hands linked behind Andrew's back, gently pulling him closer. Andrew cupped his face, stroking his thumb over his cheekbone in thought. Neil's gaze on him was warm, the caress of sunshine on his skin. 

He rested his hand on the back of Andrew's. "Okay?" He asked softly.

Andrew drew him in for a slow kiss. Neil wrapped his arms around him again, held him tight against his chest as he breathed into Andrew's mouth. The heat of their exhales and the languorous slide of the kiss left them both pleasantly breathless. Andrew parted them and studied Neil like he might have studied the workings of an old clock. He held his face, slightly tilted from the weight of his hand, thumb resting almost on his bottom lip.

"You make me happy," Andrew said.

Neil hummed, fingertips rubbing over his scalp gently. He was clearly surprised by the admission, but only his smile returned. He wanted to say thank you for the truth, but they were far past acting like the truth must be earned between them. 

Instead he leaned in again, mouth barely brushing Andrew's. "You make me happy too." It was the understatement of the ages, but Andrew tilted forward even more and Neil felt his lips form a smile before he kissed him again. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you have any feedback/thoughts! Slowly working through writers block...


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